


Re-connection

by Yuni30



Series: Nymph Hugs [21]
Category: Ni No Kuni: Wrath of the White Witch (Video Game)
Genre: Acceptance, Big Brothers, Big brother Swaine, Broken Families, Broken Promises, Brother Feels, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Distance, Gen, Letters, Rebuilding, Self-Acceptance, broken bonds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 06:43:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16057679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuni30/pseuds/Yuni30
Summary: When rebuilding broken bonds, a letter is at least something to start with.





	Re-connection

**Author's Note:**

> Another small bit here. Still experimenting with this minimalist/dialogue style. It probably won't work. Oh well. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. I just really like writing for this hobo.

_"Hi,_

_It's me. I was just wondering: how are you?"_

"Urgh." A shake of the head. A tear of the page, crumpled up and useless on the grassy ground behind a decent sized boulder.

_"To Marcassin,_

_It's been a while, huh? I mean, I know we haven't talked in a bit. You look good…"_

"That's not right either!" The same process, though the paper landed a little farther from its kin.

_"To whom it may concern,_

_I'm sorry. I can't write worth a damn. I just wanted to say, well, sorry. I must be such a disappointment-"_

"I can't write that either." It was too self-loathing- too heavy-handed, he supposed. Another shake of the head. Another paper thrown. This was starting to become a pattern.

_"Dear Marcassin, crown prince and ruler of Hamelin,_

_I would like to inform you that I would like to talk. If it pleases you, may I take up a bit of your time? It has been quite a while. I shall not be a bother to you if you cannot spare a minute…"_

"Hmm… Maybe… He'd probably read that. It seems proper enough." This time, the paper was held up in front of its creator, silently being judged and awaiting its fate.

"What are you doing," sounded a curious redhead, leaning in and reading the letter. They had been taking a small break after clearing the ash of Ding Dong Dell. It would be up soon as the time was of the utmost importance. "…You're writing to Marcassin," he wondered after a moment. "Why's it so formal?"

"He's the crown prince of Hamelin. I can't just be casual."

"He's your brother. I think he'd understand." The boy looked over to the subject at hand, sitting a few feet away on a nearby log. "Also. He's right there. Just talk to him."

"I can't just talk to him, Oliver. We haven't really talked in fifteen years," he scoffed.

"Yeah, you have."

"Oh please. That was _not_ talking!"

"You talked to him a few times before."

"With you and the others present! I mean, _talk_ talk. Just me and him confiding in each other." He gestured between himself and the boy.

"Then just go up and say, 'hey'."

"You do not just simply say, _'hey,'_ to one of the highest powers in the land, Oliver!"

"You do if it's your brother."

"Yes. My brother… My brother who I haven't really known in fifteen years."

"Hmmm… That's true."

"How do I say, 'hey', to a complete stranger?"

"He doesn't seem that different." The boy shrugged. "He's just… grown up."

"You don't understand." He flailed his arms over his head. "He hasn't just 'grown up'- he's had his fair share of turmoil. There were the trials, our people suffering from heartbreak, let alone managing the kingdom. He's had to deal with wars- the fall of Xanadu! And I wasn't there to help him through it."

"You couldn't help that."

He scoffed again. "Like hell, I couldn't. There are so many things I could have done- I could have said to help him! Now here we are, sitting a few feet away from each other and I can't say a damn thing because of it. I'd be out of line, Oliver."

"But you're not when you're with us?"

"That's different."

"How?"

"We're trying to save the world, that's how. We _have_ to talk, then."

"He's tried talking to you before! Remember?"

He waved it away as he squinted over at a nearby rock. "If you mean after the Clarion, that was just banter."

"That didn't seem like banter…"

Silence. Thoughts were being processed in the older man's head.

"You're missing the point." He sighed. "We're just… not on good terms." He looked at the man reading his own copy of the Wizard's Companion. "He's not the same little brother I knew fifteen years ago. He's not the same person."

"That doesn't matter. He's your family, isn't he? Isn't he all you have, now?" The boy looked up determinedly. "You'll just be alone if you two don't get along. That's the worst fate anyone can have, Swaine."

He turned to the wizard with a scowl. "You don't think I know that?! I've lived alone for fifteen _years_ -!"

"No, I mean, not having any family. You knew he was alive, so you weren't as worried, right?"

"Well, yeah. It's not like we don't get along, far from it." He reached up and gripped his hair. "I'd do anything for him. I just don't know how to talk _to_ him without making a fool of myself."

"So? I never had a brother…" Oliver rubbed the back of his hair. "I mean, I guess Phil is kind of like a brother. I know if I did something to make us stop talking for a while and I wanted to try talking again, I'd eventually try. Even if it's just, 'Hi. Sorry for that thing I did' or 'Hey'."

"This is different. This is so much different than that." He looked down. "Look, Oliver… Thank you for trying to help, but this is the only way I can think of. I…," he paused as he looked over at the sage. "I don't feel comfortable talking with him alone. I'm not even sure where to start."

The rogue sighed. "I'll stick with a letter." He gave a short laugh. "I don't even know what to do with that!"

"'Would you like to talk' works. Just… say how you feel. Don't worry about being formal." The kid smiled up at him. "He'll understand."

"Hmm…" He continued to study him. "You really think so?"

The kid looked over at the engrossed young man. "Yeah. He may have gone through a lot… but he's still Marcassin. I mean, you're still Gascon, right?"

"Gascon? Well, I'm not as cocky or arrogant as before, but you know…" He smirked. "I believe if he had grown up a bit, we'd be very similar people."

"Wait… what?"

"Yes. Technically I _am_ still Gascon by blood." He shook his head. "But I'm not some spoiled royal prince hiding his issues under a massive ego."

A snicker sounded.

"What?"

"You still do that."

"Well, I don't talk about my issues, but I'm not about to deny the facts, alright?" He shrugged. "I won't fight you when I know I'm wrong. I just move on."

"That's what you do with Esther…?"

"Yep." He stretched. "You just don't have time to fuss about the small stuff. Might as well focus on the present, huh?"

"Yeah," he giggled.

"Well good luck. It's something at least." With that, the boy left him to his devices.

"That it is…" He held up the paper again. Its fate was decided. Another ball of paper discarded on the ground.

_"Dear Marcassin,_

_Hey. It's been a while. How have you been? I mean that, truly. We haven't talked in a long time. Well, here it is. This is all I can seem to do to try and reconnect._

_Look, I know I haven't been around. I didn't stay true to my word. There were probably several times when you could have used me by your side. I'm sorry about that. I'm sorry for not writing you, either. I could have said anything- anything just to let you know I was alright- that I was alive and well. I could at least have given you advice. I didn't. I let you down. I know that. For that, too, I'm sorry._

_I just want to chat, like old times. Remember when we used to dream of building flying hog tanks? We started with a regular model hog tank. That failed spectacularly. That didn't stop us. Father thought we were insane because that was all we talked about at one time. Or that time we tried to sneak into the workshops. Or, hell, when I took you to Tombstone Trail- not with Oliver- the time before that. We got in such trouble- not just with father, the creatures there, too. It was fun, regardless. I wouldn't trade any of that for anything._

_I missed you so much, brother. When I wasn't off making a fool of myself doing who knows what, I thought about you- what you probably accomplished without me. I thought about how much you probably had grown since… since father-"_

He had to stop for a moment to recollect himself. He just stared down at the paper in silence. He cleared his throat. "…Maybe I shouldn't-," he hesitated before he began to put his pen to paper again. "No. It needs to be said." He heaved a heavy sigh. "Just keep going, Gascon. You can do this," he whispered.

_"Since father passed away._

_On that note, you've grown well. You look healthy, as healthy as could be for anyone in your condition. Well… I guess you've been kinder to yourself than I. You've definitely gotten stronger and more capable since I left. It goes without saying, but being alone will do that._

_Disregarding that spell of lunacy you had- heartbreak is an uncontrollable mess, I know- you've run the kingdom well. It's still standing. That's a good sign. The people are in good health and spirits. Though it's still pretty smoggy, the city itself seems to be glowing with new knowledge and life. You've even managed to appoint some trustworthy men by your side, I see._

_What new innovations have you allowed Hamelin to churn out, I wonder? I'm certain that you wouldn't let them all twiddle their thumbs. It would go against our country's very nature. There has to be something new. Well, whatever they are, brother, I hope I get to see them._

_Lastly, Marcassin, I love you- I just wanted to remind you that. You're my brother. You're the only family I have. I hope we can eventually just talk… face to face, brother to brother. I'd like that._

_With care,  
Gascon"_

He seemed to decompress as he slumped forward, the letter done. He sat back up and read it. He shook his head. This was it. Now it was time to see how he faired. He got up from his place on the rock. He folded the note as he approached his brother who had found a log to sit on.

Whistling idly, he feigned a careless drop, letting it land on the book. When he noticed the sage flinch in surprise at the note, he quickly turned around.

Marcassin studied it for a moment, then looked up in the direction it had fallen. There was no one near. With a puzzled look, he traced it back to the cad who was now near the rock he had been lounging on. When Swaine sat down, he took out his pellet gun and started to inspect it, even pulling out a couple of small tools from his coat to adjust parts of it for maintenance.

The prince looked back down at the letter. "I wonder what this is about…" He opened it and began to read.

"Ah. There we have it!" He twirled the pickpocketing gun excitedly. The weapon was back in top shape. He had tuned it to perfection once again. He held the gun up in front of his eyes to check and see if he missed anything. When he lowered it, he nearly jumped out of his skin. His younger brother had approached him with a note in hand. "Hmm? Marcassin…?"

"Since we're passing notes like school children, here," he joked as he handed him the paper with a small smile.

He looked down at the note before taking it. He studied it after it was in possession, looking up only to find the Great Sage of Hamelin had sat back down on the log.

"Huh," was all he could say to that. He opened the note.

_"Gascon,_

_Why are we writing each other? I'm right in front of you. Oh well. I suppose it_ is _less awkward than talking at the moment- something I agree we should get better at. I'm open to talk any time you need, whatever it may be._

_Like you missed me, I to have missed you. I missed you ever since father's death. I missed you ever since you left. I missed you even when you were still around- when you started to resent father, when you started to doubt yourself._

_I believed in you. I wanted to believe in you when I was heartbroken- I just couldn't. Until then, Gascon, I never stopped believing in you. I_ still _think the highest of you._

_You overcame your limitations. Even if it isn't the most glamorous- it's illegal, in fact- you found something you're good at. Technically, there were always other things you were exceptionally skilled at. Engineering and machine work was never an issue of your comprehension. Of all the things I admired about you, it was your ability to make something out of literally nothing if you really had the nerve. You never needed magic. You could always find a way, even if it took longer._

_If I could do_ half _of the things you do, brother… If I had the stubbornness you had, I could do just about anything._

 _Yes. It's been a_ long _time. Yes, there were times when I thought of how much better it would be if you could help me through the troubles I faced. I'm sure there were times you wished I was there to help you through yours. So, it's alright, Gascon. You still helped me recover from heartbreak- something that could have very well ended Hamelin itself. Now we have saved it from that horrid ash. Together._

_And together, we can finally build that flying hog tank we always dreamed of. I think we could pull it off. Though… we do already have something similar, yet less fortified than our original plans, now. They're kind of like cloud sweepers. I think you'd appreciate them greatly._

_Please, Gascon, do not hesitate to just come over and talk. I heard your conversation with Oliver before. I will not and shall not judge you._

_Yours,  
Marcassin"_

He felt the corners of his mouth twitch as he finished the letter. His heart was caught in his throat. He didn't know how to react. His left hand gripped the paper tightly, while his right rested on his gun next to him. He felt tears start to form in his eyes, but he quickly blinked them away.

He got up, folding the slightly crumpled note and strode across the grassy space in between them. As he pocketed his pickpocketing gun, he sat down next to his brother in silence.

The sage didn't look up from the book- he was reading the tale about the forbidden spell from what the thief could tell. He seemed content with the story so far.

"Hey," he began with a small smile, glancing at his younger brother with his eyes.

"Yes, Gascon," was the response. The prince looked up from his reading with a quizzical but pleased smile.

He finally faced him, his smile spreading across his face. "How are you…?"

**Author's Note:**

> This was an interesting one. I kind of wanted to do a better version of my "Closure" fic again. (*Sarcastically* I'm not re-hashing things. No, not at all.)
> 
> Slightly inspired by how some people will text each other in the same room, but only this is on a slightly more emotional and deeper level than people being lazy. Also slightly inspired by the complete ending theme of Steven Universe and _True_ by Amaranthe.
> 
> At some point, I feel like they sat down and started talking. I don't know how. I don't know when. I know that at the end of the game, they're chatting like Gascon never left. I love it. I just wonder how they got to that point sometimes. They don't talk often outside of what we see in the game, so it makes me wonder.
> 
> Thoughts? Even if not, I hope you enjoyed.


End file.
